


Equilibrium

by TheNillaWafer



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Canon Divergent, Confessions, Crushes, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, OT3, Polyamory, Requitted Love, Spoilers, Spoilers for Dec - Feb, based off Ann's romance route, endgame spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 15:55:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12461049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNillaWafer/pseuds/TheNillaWafer
Summary: In one last pitch to protect his fellow Phantom Thieves, Akira has turned himself into police custody to help testify against Shido and make him atone for his crimes. But during his absence, Ann feels as if a part of her, her heart and soul, has gone missing. Oddly enough, Ryuji feels the same. Even stranger, the two misfits also find misplaced pieces of their hearts in their own solitude and learn maybe, just maybe, that the unconventional way is the best way after all.





	Equilibrium

**Author's Note:**

> I've been in fanfic hell recently and while I've started what probably adds up to, like, over 5 fics, none of them will probably ever be finished and instead of taking the time to actually finish one, I just come up with more brilliant ideas while I'm at work so really who has time to plan out writing time, psh! 
> 
> Anyway, a major disclaimer here, uhhh... I really and truly honestly hope that I've written this fic with a realistic sense? I'm not used to OT3 and polyamory in general? So, I wanted to make this more of a "I really love my two idiot boys with all my heart and I want all of us to be happy" kinda deal instead of just "I miss my boyfriend, let me make out with this guy instead" cheater kinda thing? Because I ain't about that life. 
> 
> Really, I just want these kids to be happy and healthy and for anyone in an also happy and healthy relationship in real life, mono or poly, y'all keep doin' you!

*-*-*-*

 

The snow continues to fall, dancing and swaying to the gentle bustle of the city nightlife as a few stray flakes brush against her warm cheeks. No matter how light the touch, it still pales in comparison to the radiant warmth of his hand intertwined with her own. Ann loves that about Akira: how he’s just his own balance of sweet, cheesy romantic; dorky, idiot comedian; and suave, stunning entertainer--but yet, wrapped carefully within his traits, he’s still his reserved, mellow self. Ann has not a single clue how in the world he can pull all that off, but she doesn’t care, especially not now when the feelings of guilt and slight disappointment creep into her head as if displaying  _ World’s Worst Girlfriend  _ in fluorescently vivid signs and lights in her mind’s eye. “Ugh” She sighs and leans into him as they walk, “...I’m really sorry. I didn’t think it’d be  _ this  _ crowded.” 

She feels a shrug roll off against her body and glances up to catch his lips perks into a soft smirk, “Hey, don’t worry about it.” Akira’s voice is so smooth like a running river just gleaming with the sparkles of sunlight it reflects and yet, it’s so assuring and absolute; hard as the stones at the bottom of the same river. 

The two retreat into the warmth and solitude of LeBlanc for the night, fruitless in their impromptu plans as the stray snowflakes melt away with her worries with every sly joke Akira tosses out between them. 

From her seat on the futon, Ann nestles close to his side and feels herself relax. She has no ulterior motive for the holiday, nothing more than just revel in the warmth and tender security her boyfriend’s presence brings her. As they talk, mindless gabble and chit chat about anything and everything from the morning small talk to heartfelt rambles, she has to wonder,  _ what does he feel around her? _ That’s when she glances up and catches an otherwise odd expression plaguing his features  _ that looks so out of place for him _ . 

“...Hey, what’s wrong?” 

Akira hesitates and fiddles with his wrist, a slender hand wringing around it anxiously. It’s unlike him, his cool and calm exterior to unwind and fray in such a manner. At first, Ann’s troubled at the sight, but then realizes--

\--The action comes right off the heels of her confession, how she wouldn’t be able to bear any distance between the two of them.  _ Shit.  _ She shuffles from her place beside him and at first panics at the thought that  _ goddamn that might have just been a bit  _ too  _ strong there, Takamaki! _

But then comes a wave of suspicion. 

And when Akira shakes his head and dismisses it all, Ann believes she knows where this is heading. 

_ No... you  _ bastard,  _ no.  _

She wastes no time rising to her feet and gathering her things, the romantic winter air freezing to a halt as he moved for the stairs. She speaks, her voice a mere whisper, “...You’re hiding something from me, aren’t you...?”

There’s no smooth as silk voice that sends her heart racing, no lighthearted and dispelling chuckles that flush her face redder than her bright crimson earrings, no touch of the hand that drowns out her thoughts and doubts the moment it makes contact. Nothing. Akira says not a single word as she bids him goodnight and walks out that door, letting the nighttime snowflakes drift into her damaged soul. 

*-*-*-*

_ Bzzt, bzzt!  _

Ocean blue eyes slowly open to see the screen of a cell phone light up beside her. Even in her disoriented stupor, a tinge of panic settles in as she reaches for the phone and remembers last night’s awkward parting. 

_ What if it’s Akira? What if he admits to something I don’t want to hear? Should I be happy that he’s honest, or pissed that he-- _

“Hm.” She mutters a small, tired grunt of sudden realization, seeing Ryuji’s dorky smirk on the icon by her thumb. He’d woken her up with a text that simply read, [MERRY CHRISTMAS!] 

_ Bzzt, bzzt!  _ Ryuji again, following up with a long string of emojis that ranged from snowmen to lit-up trees to chicken wings and finally Santa Claus himself. 

Ann nearly sighs and rolls her eyes, dropping back down onto her pillow and closing her eyes just in time for another text. Her hand shot out and pulled the screen back up with the click of the button. 

This time, Yusuke chimes in with an elaborate, [You know Ryuji, some tender chicken cuts do sound rather delectable right now.]

_ Bzzt, bzzt!  _ [I know, right?!?] Ann rolls her eyes a second time and moves to punch in a response somewhere along the lines of  _ oh my god you guys it’s 8am please go back to sleep  _ and  _ I dunno I’m feeling more of a nice chocolate cake right now _ but ultimately she’s beaten to it with another double text, [Look, I know it’s kinda sudden but I was thinkin’ of grabbin’ one of those HUGE buckets from the fried chicken place and we could all head to LeBlanc for a nice Christmas lunch?]

_ Bzzt, bzzt!  _ [Y’know, kinda like a thank you for all the shit we’ve helped each other though, I dunno] 

_ Bzzt, bzzt!  _ [Akira, my dude, what do you think?]

There’s no response for a moment and Ann takes the chance to finally put the phone down and close her eyes, her face pressed tight against the pillow. Akira, that slick  _ prick _ . She doesn’t  _ want  _ to be angry at him, but the fact that he felt the need to hide behind deceit and silence rubbed her in just the wrong way and stuck like a wad of gum that never made it to the trash can. 

_ Bzzt, bzzt!  _ Ann’s tempted to just abandon the conversation and lay in the quiet stillness of her darkened room but he figures that mulling over her thoughts would only be more dangerous. She reached for her phone again and smiled lightly at Haru’s little icon now joining the fray, [I take it Akira’s probably still asleep, yes?] 

_ Bzzt, bzzt!  _ Ryuji’s reply was almost instant, he had to have had the phone open already, [Ah shit. Well, makes sense. The guy DID shoot a god in the face and save the world. Guess we could just surprise him!]

Oh yeah. 

_ Ooooooh yeah, that’s right.  _ The realization hits her like a speeding 18-wheeler on the highway and she flings herself upright in her bed.  _ Wow Takamaki, you damn moron!  _ Her mind was nowhere near the right place, too caught up in fleeting emotions and hasty conclusions that she’d neglected a good chunk of that entire afternoon’s ordeals prying on his sanity. To just be there and witness the scene unfold before your eyes was one thing, but to be  _ the chosen one,  _ the hero of the world and summon every ounce of strength and power into a single bullet strong enough to take down an indestructible deity in one fell swoop, that was incomprehensible.

No doubt that memory was forever etched into his brain, and only now--only  _ then-- _ was it finally settling in, eating away at him physically and mentally and yet he still put on a smile for her most of that night. 

She needed to apologize for screwing up their night together. It was a stupid, hasty accusation on her end. With a sigh, her slender thumbs dance to the music of an early morning commute outside her window across the glass screen and forge a message, nearly hitting send before another sudden  _ bzzt, bzzt!  _ Caught her off guard. 

This time, Makoto chimed in, [Good morning. Had I known you all would be heading to LeBlanc too, I would have told sis to wait up.]

_ Bzzt, bzzt!  _ [We’re on our way there now. I have a few small presents I wanted to give not only Akira but also Sojiro for his hospitality. I’m not sure why sis needs to go, she won’t tell me.]

Ann pauses and rereads the message. Something felt...  _ off.  _ No, not Makoto wanting to give gifts, and certainly not the boys craving fried chicken at some ungodly hour in the morning. The bunch of them had a growing respect forging with Sae but, still... why was she going? A quick tussle of her long blonde hair and she shrugs, erasing her previous message and tossing in a quick, [Well, I guess we’ll go surprise him then!]

 

*-*-*-*

 

It’s odd, she feels, how the Shibuya air suddenly feels different in the under twenty-four hours she’s been out here. Yesterday it was bustling but also soft and intimate. Today it’s almost desolate, a tinge of  _ mourning  _ prying on the tips of the cold, freezing air. 

It’s not until Ryuji, in his usual oblivious  joy, nearly kicks down the front door to LeBlanc and chimes with a loud and passionate “Meeeeeeerry Christmas!” Only to be met with silence, her heart begins to sink. 

Sojiro stands behind the counter, his expression weathered and weary. Futaba stifles a muffled sob, slumped on her stool, only for have the whimper spill out audibly like a dam threatening to burst. Makoto, having beaten the others here, stares blankly into the cream colored table before her, defeated. 

There’s no Sae. There’s also no Akira. 

Ann still can’t fathom the relation between the two facts and it’s not until Sojiro corrals the children to the booths and explains does she finally realize:  _ Akira’s turned himself into the police.  _

_ Akira turned himself in.  _

_ Akira is gone.  _

_ Gone.  _

And suddenly, the revelation comes rushing to her like a toppling ocean wave, threatening to pull her under and never let go. Akira  _ planned  _ this. Akira  _ knew  _ he’d have to let himself fall to police custody. Just to protect them. 

_ You’re so reckless, Joker... _

That’s why he was acting so strange last night. 

Tears threaten to well up in her large, sky blue eyes, glancing about to meet the downtrodden gazes of the others—Makoto defeated, Haru silent, Futaba muddling, And Yusuke distant. 

She finally rests her gaze towards Ryuji sitting across from her, watching intently at the outlying rage that ripped and burned in his chocolate eyes. Of course Ryuji was always quick to fly off the handle, but this was different. With a slam of his fist against the table, Ann jolts in her spot and watches him rise to his feet. His entire demeanor shifted and suddenly Ann felt as if she were back in the Metaverse, looking not at Ryuji, but at  _ Skull,  _ a completely different human being whose passion ignited with determination and an iron will, burning loud and bright in search of his stolen treasure. 

How fitting, for a Captain taking the helm aboard the suddenly rough and rocky seas. “Dammit! This can’t be happenin’!” He cries, his voice already rising in wavering pitch. 

Ann watches in pure awe at the spectacle, her focus and undivided attention soaking in his words and his raw emotion, her heart beginning to acceleration at this newfound determination. Especially when his gaze lands onto her. There’s an understanding, she reads, in his eyes and that once used to shrug away with a  _ calm down, Sakamoto _ . Now she embraces it, understanding the severity and letting it engulf her with the same raw fury and anger he’s burning in. 

Ann suddenly rises to her own feet from her seat, glancing about to push the emotion onto the others as Ryuji’s done to her, “H-Honestly, I... I don’t know what we should do, but... But if we give up, we’ll never save Akira!”

She finishes back where she started at those same earthy brown eyes, burning hot like a wild fire and she catches the movement of a nod, a slight smirk of agreement toying on his lips.

*-*-*-*

 

The afternoon sun still hangs high above the Shibuya skies, the buildings slowly being painted with an orange hue that’ll grow more bright and more vivid as if it were brushstrokes by Yuskue’s own talented hand. 

January 1st, the beginning of a new day, a new year and what feels like a whole new era.

And Akira still isn’t here.

With the cogs of their plan turning and churning in her head, Ann sits quietly in the sleepy atmosphere of LeBlanc, tucked back into the corner of her usual booth seat and her eyes glued to the screen of her phone as the soft sounds of Sojiro washing dishes in the back room clinked and clanged out into the open air. 

Headlines, one after another, in bold black pixels that’d force her to catch the eye of the name  _ Shido. _

That damned  _ pig.  _

She’s looking to find connections, find people who had a greater influence than anything she could manger herself to spread the word of truth and have that one word, that one influence, be the one to help release Akira like a feral animal back into the wild.

The chime above the door suddenly rang and Ann picked her head up around the seat to catch sight of Ryuji, a huge yawn roaring from his throat. Simple  _ hey _ s were tossed, including Sojiro who poked his head out with a quick ‘What’s up, kid?” 

“Not much, heh. Just woke up, honestly.” Ryuji catches Ann’s gaze and bolts over to park a spot right across from her at the table, beginning with an amused smirk, “Didn’t expect t’ see you here.” 

“You literally  _ just  _ woke up? Geez. We weren’t up  _ that  _ late. Also, shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” Ann peeks up from her phone, taking another quick glance back down before locking it and tossing it out of her vision back onto the table. 

The faux-blonde cracks a joke and the two chuckle warm heartedly. When Sojiro finally returns to his place across the bar, and asked if the usual frozen hot chocolate would suffice, Ryuji shakes his head much to Ann’s own astonishment, “Nah, not anymore, Boss. I’ll take the chef’s recommendation on a cup of coffee!” 

“But, I thought you didn’t like bitter stuff?” Ann asks, but when Ryuji shrugs it off playfully, the elder made no opposition and began his magic, concocting and crafting a unique blend for the unique boy. 

The fresh grounds with a sweet, bountiful smell whirred in the machine and Ann felt the tension in her shoulders relax, easing her. She pressed again, “Uhh, you’re freakin’ me out here, Ryuji. You never order coffee. What’s up?”

Ryuji merely just shrugs again in a motion fluid as the rain that runs down the sidewalks and offers, “Startin’ a resolution or whatever it’s called for the new year! I wanna get myself t’ like the taste of coffee!” 

Ann feels her brow furrow tight with skepticism. She’s more than aware that Ryuji walks that odd line of ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’, and ‘daredevil idiot’, but that’s usually more reserved for the major things like the corrupt and inept society that they (hopefully) had just reformed, the way people perceive him, talk to him, treat him and anything else that ebbs deep within his skin like a parasite and eats away at him. As far as food however, Ryuji probably leaned more towards the former with his ramen and carbonated whatever-the-hell. Who would have thought, coffee...? She raises a brow, “Well, that’s a sudden resolution. Any reason?” 

It was Ryuji’s turn to knot his own dark brows together, “Whaddya mean? I gotta have a reason to try somethin’ new?” 

Ann says nothing and leans back in her seat. The accusation strikes just a minor chord with him and she’s aware that if she just gives him a few seconds of unwind and unravel, he’ll return to a level of understand. It’s like clockwork, as he watches the tension in his face release second by second before he finally sighs. She watches as the young man fiddles with his hands, the cracked, rough skin creating its own off key symphony as it brushed together. He hesitated to meet her gaze, but when he did, his expression was serious and stoic. “Truthfully...” He begins, his voice soft and low almost as he’s reaching from the depths of his heart when he speaks. The words are heavy, yet they float in the air between them like it’s nothing. “...Uh, I... I wanna get used t’ the taste of coffee because--a-and don’t laugh!” Ann’s hands shoot immediately into the air, tossing him a look of shock. His words are safe with her, and a second later, he understands. “Uh... W-When we get Akira back... I-I want him to make me the best cup of coffee he’s ever made.”

There’s a beat of silence between the two of them, and Ann remains quiet, not in the sentimental sense of understanding but rather the opposite: she doesn’t get it. If he really wanted to spend time with Akira the two could go out to ramen like usual. 

Her expression shows like an open book and Ryuji shakes his head, “Really, I don’t care about the coffee itself, it’s more like... I dunno... You ever watch Akira make coffee?” 

The blonde takes a moment to recollect. She has, multiple times, as a matter of fact, and for the first couple of times, she’s too enamoured by the smell and aroma of coffee lingering in the air. But, more recent times--

“It’s almost like he’s in his own little world.” Sojiro chimes in, walking out to place a small cup and saucer in front of the out-of-place punk. “I never thought he’d be the one to take such a liking to coffee, honestly. Should’ve known right there and then that first day I startin’ showin’ him that he wasn’t a bad kid.” Ryuji merely stares at the steaming cup while Sojiro explains professionally about the unique house blend, how mild it is and how it’s a good starting point on the endeavors in coffee tasting. 

He takes a careful sip, a peaceful face instantly contorting into one of disgust and pain and slams the cup back down with a yelp. Sojiro merely laughs, “Well, for starters, you might wanna let it cool. That, and, if you’ll be drinkin’ the boy’s coffee then get used to it. His brews are damn strong.” 

Ryuji muttered something and let a shiver rock his spine, Ann didn’t quite catch it. Instead, her mind’s eye plays back the last time Akira made her a cup of coffee here at the cafe like an old movie reel. The steam fogging up his glasses, him having to rip of them off and reveal the glimmer of his molten steel eyes bubbling with excitement and precision. Akira gets so focused with his coffee, but he never measures anything out. It’s as if he can feel how much he needs with the slight of his own hand, and when it’s all said and done, he presents his cup with a kind smile—not a smirk of achievement—but a warm, polite smile that seems to grow in size at the slightest ‘mmmhmm’ Of content. A little victory capitalized with a grin of pride and pleasure; an artist pleased at the content of others from his own edible craft. 

The mere memory of it is enough to make her heart race and her body grow far warmer than the actual coffee can do. In the midst of it all, she has to stop and think: if Ryuji realizes it too then, how does he feel?

Speaking of Ryuji, the young punk was suddenly snapping his fingers in front of her hazy, daydreaming face, snapping her back to attention. Her glance darted about and politely declined when Sojiro offered her more coffee. The elder huffed and turned back towards the counter, “Alright then. And as for you—“ he jabs a finger towards Ryuji, “—I’ll be sure to let Akira you’ll be breaking down the door for a cup of coffee when he gets back.”

 

*-*-*-*

 

At times, it feels like a fruitless effort; a goal far too distant to achieve, but when the team gathers together in huddled droves over the booths at LeBlanc, Ann feels confident that they’ll have the power to release Akira from the proverbial (and literal?) shackles. Talks of bail money, talks of piecing together evidence, talks of getting Sae to appeal his case, Makoto calling and making connections—it all seems far too adult and mature for them to fathom until Ryuji chimes in with an almost childish  _ can’t we just break him out? _

And, also as usual, Ann is the first to retort back with a  _ no, Ryuji, as much as we wish we could we gotta play the game by the rules.  _ It’s clockwork now, and while at first it was childish and annoying, Ann has to admit to herself that the same  _ childish  _ and  _ annoying  _ attitude is almost comforting. It’s proof that, despite everything, Ryuji is still, well, Ryuji. 

The  _ former _ -Phantom Thieves convene on the regular to update each other on the big plan of action. It’s... different than what Ann’s grown accustom to, and she wonders if it's just her reminiscence about months past or just a completely different circumstance overall. There’s no elaborate heist, no killing Shadows, no navigating through a palace, just internet searches and phone calls. 

As Makoto speaks, relaying her newest update, Ann’s mind drifts and finds itself wandering the back alleys of a strange, sleepy little town. A woman’s scream-- _ Akira said he was coming home late when he heard her scream-- _ and her mind grows blurry as if it’s running towards the source. Adrenaline, confusion, determination, who knows what was running through his mind at that moment he locked eyes with the drunken asshole, that selfish prick. She could only imagine his breath reeking of booze, his eyes glazed and distant, the stagger in his stance and the suddenly strike of his unsteady lunge and the toxic venom in his voice as he swore damnation and ruin, threatening to tear apart a mere child. 

_ Damn brat! I’ll sue! _

Akira told her it was one of the most frightening moments of his life. 

What Ann didn’t get at first was why didn’t that woman speak up? Why did she lie? Why did she keep the truth hidden when she could have torn that disgusting pig to the ground side by side with Akira? 

But Ann’s seen the truth now. The distorted image of Shido morphs into a more disgustingly familiar face, disheveled black hair like a dirty mop atop his head, dark eyes deep like shady back alleys that watched her like a dog watched a dangling piece of meat--hungry, waiting, ready to strike. She asks herself the same questions--Why didn’t  _ she  _ speak up? Why did  _ she  _ lie? Why did  _ she  _ keep the truth hidden even when she knew her voice would be paired with both Ryuji’s and Akira’s? 

Fear. That deep, gut-wrenching fear, that’s what. That fear that you were constantly under lock and key, that you words were weightless, meaningless and mere fodder to the ear in comparison to his. Fear that anything shy of an agreement would result in punishment and consequence. 

_ If you found out what he’s been doin’ behind your back, you’d dump him right away.  _

It was the first full, deep and meaningful sentence Ryuji had spoken to her, the first time Ryuji had looked long and hard into her eyes since middle school. There was no malice, but moreso a hint of firmness and caution. 

He was trying to save her. 

Just as Akira did when she ran off in the train station that one afternoon. 

Just as Akira did with this woman back home. 

Funny, Ann figures, how all this shit just seems to connect into one another in a sick, twisted way. 

Ann snaps back to her senses just in time to catch the tail end of the meeting and how Makoto takes the initiative to disperse for the day. As the others funnel out in droves, the stillness of LeBlanc seems to engulf her, Sojiro and also Ryuji who hasn’t budged from his spot, staring deep at a stain on the tabletop. 

Something troubles him, and when Ann decides to press it, Ryuji merely shakes his head. “It’s just... it’s ‘effed up, man. Akira’s the kinda guy who’d stick his head out on a blade for ya, and this is how he’s gettin’ treated.” 

They share a silent moment together, one of deep revelation and thought. Ann sees from the corner of her eye Ryuji breaking the silence by the movement of the plush leather seats and he rises to his feet, but he pauses. His voice is calm, but it’s held back and tamed like a caged beast, quarantined from the rest of the world around it “...You doin’ anything later?” 

Waiting around was never one of Ryuji’s strengths, so when he casually asks if she’s free for a night sometime soon to catch a new movie up at the theater, Ann’s quick to agree. Normally far more patient and understanding, all of the news of Shido’s election and waiting to even hear the slightest shred of mention on Akira makes her stomach somersault, her chest tighten and her brain swirl with uncertainty and anxiety. Truthfully, she feels blessed to have this small moment of freedom, the escape from the chaos and no doubt the punk boy feels the same. 

The moment Ryuji flashes her a wide, honest grin is the moment she really frees the freedom from the world, but not physically. Her stomach still churns and her chest still tightens and her brain still swirls with emotions. But it’s strange, it’s far more welcoming this time around. Ann finds herself grinning right back. 

 

*-*-*-*

 

The city never sleeps, and it’s a proven fact. Even in the cramped underground of the subway station late at night, the hustle and bustle of the nightlife crowds moved and swayed to its own beat. Ann leaned back on the bench against the wall, the warmth of Ryuji’s large, fluffy sweatshirt radiating onto her. They had just come back from an action movie, one filled to the brim with explosions and fight scenes and while Ann wasn’t the biggest fan of action flicks, it still gave her a rush of excitement and thrill deep in her heart. The perseverance of the action hero, the desperation of the fate that rested in his hands, his team of support and guidance tailing him behind like a fleeting shadow. It felt so...  _ reminiscent.  _

Ann sighs and glances about, “...I wish Akira were here.” 

Ryuji nods a serious agreement and while Ann thinks it’s just to shut her up about missing her boyfriend, he adds, “Nah. Really, he woulda loved that. All those kickass fights n’ shit, oh man he’s so into that stuff. Coulda had an extra seat right there for him, y’know?” 

The conversation seems to end there and for a moment, Ann laments. It’s little while now and pretty soon it’ll have been a month since he turned himself into police custody. With no news, a minimal plan and loads of  _ please God make this work,  _ Ann feels the anxiety creep back into her frame of being.

Thankfully, Ryuji’s soft chuckle knocks it away if not for just a split second, “Hey, so... I gotta ask.” A quizzical brow of his shoots up, “Are... you and Akira... you guys datin’?” 

“...!” The question catches Ann off guard and hurriedly, frantically, she racks her brain for a response. It wasn’t as if it was meant to be kept guarded like a deep taboo, but they figured they wouldn’t let it interfere with their duties as Phantom Thieves. Heroes, vigilantes, whatever you may had called them, in the end, they were still teenagers, and with the loose lips all teens carried, neither of them wanted to cause any drama among the group. 

With every passing second, Ryuji’s smirk widens farther and wider until he’s absolutely pleased with himself. He shrugs, “Hey, I ain’t tryin’ to put ya on the spot! I just wanted to know if I was right!” He lets loose and slight cackle, “Aaaaaand, I’d say that I’m right, huh?” 

Ann finally admits, the floodgates breaking loose and spilling out the details about that warm summer day she and Akira helped Shiho to the roof at school, the tearful goodbyes as they overlooked out into the courtyard below them, the sloppy confession Ann let slip and the soft smile it was met with. The great thief, skilled at what he’d grown to perfect, had, in a sense, stolen her heart. 

Suddenly, she hears Ryuji laugh and at first she thinks it’s a cheap jab to make fun of her. He shakes his head, “You know, you guys are great for each other. Really, I mean it! I’m watchin’ n’ just, your eyes--they’re shining just like Akira’s when he talks ‘bout you.” 

Akira’s never told anyone about the two of them, not even Ryuji, and yet, perhaps that’s what made it so obvious that even Sakamoto could pick up on it. Akira was the kind of guy that, once you’d gotten past the rough exterior, the rumors, the awkwardness and everything else that made him,  _ him,  _ you held a bond of admiration and respect with him. Everyone held that, from the fellow Phantom Thieves, to Sojiro, to teachers who’d gotten to know him at school, to people he knows out in the city. 

But romance was another thing. Romance made you lose track of the time and forget what you were going to say and lose track of where you’d placed your wallet and other stupid little things that would other make you look like an idiot. Love was blinding. It welled in the depths of your eyes and made you focus on that one thing and one thing only as if it could slip away at any second. It made you learn that life was precious, that time was limited, and things could change at the drop of a hat. Maybe that’s what raced through someone’s mind when their eyes sparkled and glistened like the sun gleaming off a rippling water’s edge, when their face warms up softly to the heated glow of rose tint, when their voices race and rise in pitch just the slightest fraction and for a second it’s as if they forget how to breathe.

Ann, suddenly, raises a brow of her own, “But... hold up a sec.” 

“Don’t think too hard, ya might hurt yourself.” 

_ Good ol’ Sakamoto.  _ No, she was right in her suspicions. With that thought, she retraced her memories and looked at the finer details, focusing on the two bumbling idiots. The glances they’d exchanged; their mannerisms and gestures. Just two handsome guys, hangin’ out, doing their thing. She smiles and speaks matter-of-factly, “But, Ryuji... isn’t that how  _ you  _ look when  _ you  _ talk about Akira?” It’s true, and almost instantly the faux-blonde is quick to dismiss it with a hasty wave of his hands and sputtered cries. The two were instantly close, however that was initially more of Ryuji’s attraction towards misconduct and danger like a moth attracted to a flame more than anything. Only he’d be the one to dive headfirst and befriend the “scary, killer criminal who’d beat the shit out of you if you looked at him wrong”. 

Ann had heard the story before from both of their accounts but it always added up to the same: two misunderstood misfits finding a place to belong, together. It just so happened that taking down a perverted gym teacher and having herself get caught up in the fray and discovering she was wielding the powers of her pure and just heart all just happened to go down at about the exact same time. 

Still, seeing Ryuji so flustered and baffled was a sight worth remembering. She giggled and tossed a hand up, “Don’t worry about it too much. I mean, I know you two are close. Besides, if Akira thinks the world of me, then I bet he thinks the universe of you.” 

The boy halts, freezing in his movements. Ann catches his gaze of shock, awe and bewilderment at her words. His face, so sleek and angular, contorts into a narrow squint of confusion. It’s partial fact, and Ann explains how Akira goes on and on about him, how their training sessions go and how their little impromptu ramen dates are and how damned good he is at all the video games they play together. It’s sweet, how Akira looks forward to those days with Ryuji just as much excitement as when the two plan a romantic date together. 

She wonders... Maybe... 

She’s never thought of this before, and now the idea lingers like a terrible joke in the back of her head. Still, it amuses her, that, maybe just maybe, Akira and Ryuji like each other. Akira, easily, she could see being with a man; his beautiful features, wooing anybody who crosses his path with both his domestic skills and his flawless, gentlemanly charm. But... Ryuji? 

“...Damn,” Ryuji’s voice is soft and hesitant, muddled deep in thought, “I-I mean, there’s no way that can be true--you two are  _ dating _ n’ that’s deep stuff n’ all!” Again, he’s flashing that look of desperation across his flustered face, “But, I dunno. Akira and I... I’ve told him before, I feel like... I dunno how to word it... Uh... We’ve got this kinda bond that goes... I dunno, deeper than just close bros, y’know?” 

Normally, Ann would be on the floor, doubled over in laughter at the mere  _ thought  _ of Ryuji being serious. Yet, somehow, she felt captivated by his demeanor instead. Ryuji wasn’t the kind of guy to be spilling deep thoughts to just anyone. He trusted Akira, enough to listen to his orders from behind the mask, lay his life on the line for him and put the most purest faith and luck into his choices, and by the means of it, with his words at the moment, he trusted her just as well with his emotions, a usually unseen side of him. 

He shrugged, dark eyes following a passing train car before turning back to catch Ann’s wide blue Pacific eyes, “It’s almost like... I feel like I’ve...” 

“...Like you’ve known him for years, right?” 

To the passing eye, it looks as if the two just stare dumbly at each other, but that’s not the case. There’s a far deeper level of understanding that far exceeds the eye. They exchange a level of understanding, of connection, of deep seated emotion that’d either laid dormant or pent up behind the iron bars of a cage for so long. Neither of them move, but Ann watches with the commotion bubbling up inside of her--her stomach, her chest, her head, all again  _ what the hell? _ \--as Ryuji mutters a soft “...Yeah...”, his words nearly lost in the overhead bell that rang in the narrow corridor. 

He stirs and moves to his feet. His train has arrived, she’s aware, but before he runs off, Ryuji shrugs down at her and grins, “B-Besides, heh! If it weren’t for Akira, I wouldn't've made up with the badass girl from middle school!” Ann’s brain is speeding down the highway at the moment, thoughts and feelings rushing past her just as the sight of trees do from the other side of the passenger window. One moment, she swears she sees him wink; and the next, his rough, sturdy hand reaches for her own and quickly brushes her slender fingers closed into a fist, bumping it playfully with his own free hand before letting the warmth fade away. 

The intercom sounds again, and while Ann scrambles to make sense of the past few seconds, Ryuji shouts something about the movie from down the corridor as he bolts, turning to wave before he ducks past the closing doors and the train speeds off down the tunnel and into the night. 

In this moment, nothing makes sense. Instead of sifting through her thoughts and emotions, Ann fights with herself and focuses on the timetable above her instead as a means of distraction. Her own train isn’t that far behind.

 

*-*-*-*

 

It’s said that when you see someone in your dream, they’re thinking about you at the same time. Ann’s heard this rubbish time after time, and yet, she wonders why  _ this  _ dream feels so real. 

She’s standing in the doorway of her classroom at Shoujin, the soft murmur of bustling students roaming the room, the hallways behind her all buzz in and out of her ears. But she’s not too concerned about that. Instead, she’s fixated on Akira, straightedge and proper in his pristine uniform and yet his hair still looks disheveled and unruly. He’s just as much of a conundrum as she’s come to know him as. He sits on the edge of his seat, glancing up at the figure beside him and Ann’s gaze follows to find a nonchalant Ryuji leaning up against the empty and propping a hand onto Akira’s shoulder below him. The punk shifts and props himself up to sit on the abandoned desk, nearly knocking a pencil case off the surface and causing the two to break into a heavenly duet of childish laughter. 

Ann feels her face flush as she involuntarily moves into the classroom, closing the distance that stands between her and the boys. Suddenly, they both pause and turn their gaze towards her, Akira’s dark eyes are hidden behind the glare of his glasses, but his soft smile speaks volumes of his contentment. Ryuji grins, that wide, open-tooth grin that a child bears at pure excitement, chocolate eyes wrapped like candy bars behind his clenched eyelids until the smile loosens. 

Of course, Akira moves first. His free hand brushes lightly against the fabric of her blazer sleeve and trails down to take her soft, slender hand into his own, intertwining their fingers swiftly and smoothly. Just as she continues to watch Akira move effortlessly in his chair, his free hand slowly dancing towards the small of the Ryuji’s back, she feels the comfort of an arm snake around her shoulders and a hand clasp down warmly. The punk’s large hand shifts its weight as it teeters the touch back and forth, but never straying from her shoulder and into uncharted, forbidden territory. 

Ann’s heart thuds loudly in her ears, and she can  _ see  _ the two of them speaking but no words reach her, drowned out by the whirling bass drumming of her own emotions  _ THUD, THUD, THUD _ ing right smack dab in the center of her brain. She observes carefully, as best as she can, and sees the two boys exchange a glance. Both their eyes, shadowy dark abysses and warm, sun-kissed earth, glimmer with this unique enamour like polished diamonds. They turn and meet Ann, whose entire world, let alone her wide eyed gaze, is muted and distorted with a flood of emotions all bombarding her at once. 

She’s never felt this before, not even on the rooftop with Akira. It’s stronger now, more passionate and meaningful now than it ever has been. Akira, the quiet and calm-mannered charmer with a silver tongue; and Ryuji, the crackling, passionate spark of a firework that burned bright and loud and never seemed to ease up. 

...What did that make her? Well, panthers are elegant creatures who could kill in a single strike. She liked that. Feisty, fierce and protective. 

Honestly, she trusts  _ both  _ of them with her life. She’s already proven it with countless trips to Mementos and various palaces. She’s never hesitated to throw herself into the line of fire to protect any of the crew, but especially either of these two. She depended on them--when they fought to make her realize what a  _ disgusting douchebag  _ Kamoshida was, when they stood beside her to steal his treasure, when she was being targeted by  _ such a shady boy _ and the two intervened like a physical barrier, shielding her, protecting her. 

She wanted to give back, even now, even after all they’d been through. A sigh of both  _ I’m not helpless, I want to prove to you that I’m strong too _ and  _ I can’t thank you guys enough for everything you’ve done.  _

Tears begin to prick her eyes as her grip on Akira’s hand tightens and her free hand moves slowly to rest on Ryuji’s thigh-- _ his bad leg _ , she reminders herself--and lets the soft touch move slightly along the plaid fabric, as if the warmth of her hand will massage the muscle underneath and help ease the ebbing pain. 

A sentence creeps slowly up her throat and reaches her lips. She feels herself draw in a breath, the thumping of her heart growing louder and the heat blasting from her face intensifying. 

“...I--”

The world around her suddenly goes black at the sound of an electric alarm. Her eyes, dulled over with a layer of sleep, awake to the darkened bedroom around her. Her alarm clock is ringing. 

_ I love you two... so much... _

 

*-*-*-*

 

The cold, winter air seeps in through the cracked window in Ryuji’s bedroom, causing her to shiver softly at the breeze. Instinctively, she’d pull the blanket around her shoulders closer and tighter for warmth, but her mind is focused more heavily on the aged pixels on the screen, colors flashing with every digital punch and kick, a chiptune voice muffled by the speakers and the music growing more and more intense with the dwindling seconds remaining in the fight. 

Ryuji’s character is nearly knocked out, and if she could just get one more combo in...

“ _ Knockout!”  _ The TV cries and Ryuji hops to his feet in celebration, nearly mimicking the dance moves of the large, muscular man on the screen as she reaches over to slap his shin playfully. 

“C’mon!  _ That  _ was a close game, I  _ gotta  _ celebrate!” 

Ryuji looks like that of his younger middle school self in this moment, she realizes. His body moving jarringly to his own terrible off-beat of a dance, his grin wide as his teeth glimmer and dazzle like the stars at night at the sight of light. 

Ann reels him back off his high and he sits back down, trying to catch his breathe as he cackles loudly, taking the video game controller back up into his hands. 

He’s just so...  _ radiant _ , like the warm summer sun or freshly dried blankets that feel so toasty and cozy. 

Ann’s mind drifts back towards the dream still fresh in her mind even after a few days, like a stain that’ll never wash out. Ryuji and Akira are quite a pair--so vividly and outright  _ different,  _ and yet, both of them have this awesome power to sweep her off her feet so effortlessly. Damn them. It’s also funny because even with how opposite they are, they still, in the end, make her feel that same rush of emotions. With Akira, her stomach is unsettled like a simmering pot on the stove, her chest is tight like the knots of a shoelace and her head swims with a flurry of emotion as if it’s a busy highway intersection--never resting and never slowing down. With Ryuji, it’s different. Her stomach flips and twirls like an olympic gymnast taking center stage, her chest is packed like the trunk of a car on a roadtrip filled to the brink and her head swirls with a fury of emotions faster and harder than the characters in this fighting game can punch.

She hears the snapping of fingers, and finds herself back into reality. Ryuji rolls his eyes and says something about her zoning off to which she  _ wants  _ to reply something about how  _ he’s making her zone out and dammit Ryuji please stop looking at me with those big brown eyes I can’t. _

If she doesn’t climb the cliff edge, she’ll never take the plunge. 

She’ll never know what’s at the bottom waiting for her. 

She sighs and already this captures Ryuji’s attention. He’s growing concerned, she can see it even from the corner of her eyes and she figures it’s a better time than never to ease into the subject. “Hey... Do you... Do you ever feel conflicted about, y’know, just,  _ something?”  _

The question’s just vague enough to work but of course she knows that Ryuji isn’t as dumb as he claims to be. He’s a bright boy who just chooses not to connect the dots and let someone else do it instead since all he knows is  _ wrong, wrong, wrong.  _

There he goes, the narrowing of his caramel eyes as he analyzes her for a moment, mulling over his words but as soon as the expression appears, it’s gone. He shrugs, “You’re worried about Akira, ain’tcha?” 

Ann nearly gasps but then again, he’s been on her mind since Christmas Eve. Her mind always churning over how she reacted, how, if she’d just  _ known _ , she wouldn’t have flown the handle and jumped to hasty conclusions. She wouldn’t have spoiled the mood and ruin the holiday for the both of them. 

“I’m tellin’ ya,” Ryuji’s voice reels her back once more, “He’s gonna be fine. Our plan is pretty much foolproof and--”

And now, she has to laugh. She’s being ridiculous now. She’s too busy falling prey to childish romances when a young, innocent man is trapped in incarceration. What ridiculous priorities. “N-No, it’s... not that. N-Nevermind.” 

Ryuji, stubborn as usual, isn’t buying it. Like she said, he’s a bright boy and if he could pick up that her and Akira were dating, then chances were he’d already picked up that something was eating at her.  _ Maybe I  _ am  _ too easy to read... _

Ann cracks under his intense gaze, and lets the words slip out effortlessly. It’s straightforward, more than she’s usually aiming for.  _ I’m in love with Akira, but... I think I’m in love with you too.  _ Ann’s bursting with emotions, one after another after another and her body feels like jelly and her mind doesn’t know what the hell it’s doing, but yet, Ryuji flickers through his expressions like the frames of a camera reel carefully, as if deciding which one to choose for the final cut. There’s indifference, then realization, then shock, then deep thought, then happiness, then gloom--wait, what? 

Every second feels like a passing eternity to Ann, the fleeting emotions running rampant over the sound of a blaring alarm in her head: _why the_ fuck _did you say that why the_ fuck _did you say that why the_ fuck _did you_ _say that?!_

Suddenly, Ryuji’s chuckling, a hand holding up his head as he shakes it in dismay, “Why, though?” It’s a serious question, and Ann isn’t sure how to handle it. “I-I mean... You already have the greatest guy anyone could ever ask for and I  _ know  _ you love him with all of your heart so... I dunno, w-why settle for anything less?” 

He’s tearing himself down, and in the midst of the chaos, Ann feels her heart grow heavy. It’s a defense Ryuji puts up as if he’s under siege; under attack by a terrifying force and doesn’t have the strength to stop it. 

Ever since they were little, he’s always done this. He’s always torn himself down to boost others up. He’s always seem himself as the lowest part of the totem and it breaks her heart to know that, despite everything they’ve been through, Ryuji will never change on that part. 

Ann fires back with a sharp recollection of Shido’s palace. The sinking steel ship, the clutches of the churning ocean waves fighting to reach up and pluck them off the ship. When all hope was lost, even in Joker’s usually fiery and determined eyes, it was only  _ Skull  _ who’d stepped up to weigh the risks before tossing them to the ocean sea floor in reckless abandonment. When she speaks, there’s still that lingering fear in her voice despite knowing, seeing, feeling that he’s alive and well. The fear that settled deep within her core the moment the landing explodes and the flames reach up and wrap around the leather clad rebel, swallowing him whole. The  _ despair  _ that begins to creep ominously when the flames retreat and  _ Skull wasn’t there anymore.  _ She remembers her lungs giving out, her voice growing raw as the talons of panic close in around her and she cries out his name, as if summoning him in the wake of despair. 

“Then...” Ryuji’s lost, he’s scrambling and looking for the words that he can’t seem to find. One by one, he pieces the question together slowly and hesitantly, as if forgetting how to speak. “Why... Why did you sm--?”

“Smack you? Because I didn’t know how to feel when I saw you again!” 

He was so nonchalant, as if the lapping, licking flames didn’t even exist, as if the Ark hadn’t sunk and as if Shido’s palace was a mere fairy tale, and when Ann saw that stupid smirk of his again after she was  _ convinced  _ he hadn’t survived, she was hit with everything and anything from relief to anger to joy to depression and then some. 

Studying the boy’s face, it seemed as if the message finally got to him.  _ She valued him. She cherished him. She  _ loved  _ him.  _

Then, suddenly, he stood up and began to pace; another defense fortified, “L-Look, Ann, I...” He sifts a rough pair of hands through his short hair multiple times and groans, “Goddamn, whaddaya want me to say? L-Like, shit... Ann, you’re the most attractive girl I’ve ever seen n’ you’re so ‘effin badass n’ so smart n’ great n’ all like, I’m so so  _ sooooo  _ glad to have you in my life n’ everything honestly, I... I-I really love you too--b-but!” 

He’s quick to add in that  _ but,  _ as if just pouring out his heart is complete and utterly dismissed. Ryuji kneels down to match her height and Ann notices his face more flushed and tinted than a traffic light. His words, however, grow low and serious and hit her with rock-hard certainty, “But... I’ll be ‘effin damned if I get in the way of you and Akira... Y’all are so,  _ so  _ ‘effin lucky to have each other--two attractive, smart, funny n’ supportive people--n’ just...  _ I _ ain’t gonna be the one to ruin that.” 

Ann lets the words churn over and over in her head, replaying the last few minutes to catch over on the finer points she may had missed. She tries, slowly but reassuringly, to convey that it’s not a matter of destruction, but a matter of  _ construction;  _ She loves Akira, but also loves Ryuji. Ryuji loves Akira and her. Akira loves her and Ryuji. She’s seen in the way they look at each other, the way both of their voices flutter like the soft wings of a butterfly when they talk about the other, the way their eyes crystalize over and glimmer with affection at even the mention of the other. 

The more Ann realizes, the more she remembers coming back to the real world following Shido’s palace, before Ryuji showed up like it was nothing. Tears pricking her own vision, she had scanned the horizon for the faux-blonde before meeting the eyes of her fellow Phantom Thieves. Everyone was downcast, dejected and when she turned to meet Akira’s gaze, she assumed she’d find his usual, stoic reassurance like the weathered, stone edifice he was. 

But it wasn’t there. Akira had taken an emotional toll, his jaw clenched tight and a glimmer of light  _ behind  _ his glasses in the Tokyo sunlight.  _ He was crying.  _

_ The thing is... Akira loves you too...  _

Their predicament is unconventional, but not impossible. She’s seen movies and read manga before where things like this happen, where bleeding hearts feel they can’t decide on just love to spend forever with--but that already is where the problem is. Ann feels as if it’s not a  _ decision,  _ but another connection, a fortified equilibrium that uplifts them all at the same time, that gives them peace and tranquility, that gives them a sense of security that’ll never fade out.

As Ann finishes and lets her words fade into the silence, she realizes the room around them is still, as if frozen in time. The only integer of time is not any number or hands on a clock but instead the growing warmth that creeps onto her hands and she glances down, watching as Ryuji’s large fingers curl around her dainty own ones. “I think... I think I get it now...” His eyes never leave her face, studying every curl of her lashes and the plush rose color of her lips. “A-And, you’re sure Akira’s down for...  _ this?”  _

Ann has never felt so confident in her words, not since they first took down Kamoshida and watched him wither in fear like the putrid slug he was. When she assures him, Ryuji beams and Ann remembers back to when middle school, realizing that no he didn’t just weasel his way into her heart...  _ he’s always been there.  _

The grip on her hands tighten just slightly and her body moves on its own accord, leaning in towards Ryuji to meet him with the electrifying touch of his lips in a soft, warm kiss. 

She’s completely forgotten about the video game still flashing an array of colors on the screen before them. 

 

*-*-*-*

 

January comes and leaves just as soon as it arrives. Ann can’t believe how fast the new year is speeding by them like trucks on a busy highway. It’s already February. Somehow, by the graces of God, the victimized woman from the previous year agrees to lend her aid and help Akira, the young soft-spoken boy who wouldn’t even had hurt a fly in that point of his life. This is it, the crucial and much-needed point in freeing Akira. 

Ann feels as if a weight’s been lifted off her shoulders, off her chest, and now she can breathe easily. Of course, maybe it’s just also paired with the fact that Ryuji’s hoodie is one of the softest, fluffiest things she’s ever felt in her life. She feels only the gentle movement of his arm jostle her head slightly as he flips to the next page of his manga, pausing for another sip of coffee. Ann’s pushed him hard to stick to his little resolution, and while it’s never going to be one-hundred percent accomplished (“A-Ack! What the hell man?! This one tastes like straight up dirt!”), he’s improved a great deal. 

Akira would be proud. 

The two piddled away their spare time in between gathering the last shreds of evidence  and helping Makoto with the woman’s testimony with coffee breaks, and casual dates. Still, as time passed, both of them grew more and more anxious. 

Mid-February. That’s the timeframe Sojiro had heard from Sae herself as everything slowly began to fall into place. Shido’s own confession, paired with crucial evidence and support gathered by those the Phantom Thieves had touched or aided in a positive light, and the woman’s own testimony from that fateful day nearly a year ago as the icing on the cake  _ should  _ be enough to set the boy free.

_ Should.  _

Ann clenched her eyes shut.  _ No, it’ll be fine... It’ll work.  _

Ryuji, on the other hand, is restless. The hobbling of his feet drumming against the ground and the muscle in his arm flexing as if he were restraining movement. Finally he tossed the manga onto the table with an irritated sigh, “How much  _ looooooooonger?! _ ”

“...Hopefully not too much longer...” Ann’s voice is low and soft, rattled with exhaustion as she shifts to adjust to the new position on his shoulder. 

Ryuji seems to have calmed down at her words, his muscles releasing the rock-hard tension and his voice mellowing back to a normal level as he shifts to reach for the manga once more, a tempered beast tamed. He lets out a sarcastic  _ fiiiiine _ and let’s the rest trail off into silence. 

Ann speaks up one last time, fiddling again with her position in the plush leather booth, “Hey, goddammit, stop moving...” 

“Hey, why dontcha get comfy already?”

Ann has to hold back the chuckle playing on her lips. It’s almost as if she can  _ hear  _ him smirking sarcastically, but she doesn’t make any grand gesture to fight back. Ryuji was never, is not, and most likely would never be a rather cuddly person, never too far interested into cheesy, canoodling unlike Akira at times. But still, he was his own unique blend; a supplement-- _ not a replacement-- _ or one half of a whole dork, she’d like to pretend.  _ Never change, Sakamoto.  _ Instead, she  _ tsk _ s and mutters a sweet and loving, “...Smartass.” 

She can hear him chuckle amusingly, a quick, fleeting touch of his lips peeking the crown of her head affectionately.

 

*-*-*-*

 

There’s a new kind of air surrounding the atmosphere of LeBlanc this afternoon. Just as Ann was beginning to lament quietly over up and coming Valentine’s Day, the news had broken. 

Akira was coming home that Monday. Now,  _ today _ , the 13th.

_ Home. Finally. _

The former-Phantom Thieves sat around the cafe, indulging in drinks and treats, engaging in idle chitchat for the most part, waiting... waiting...  _ waiting.. _ . Ann felt herself beginning to succumb to her nerves, her stomach twisting and turning in a strange mix of giddy excitement and actual honest nervousness. 

She watches everyone else in an attempt to distract herself, until Ryuji pipes up across the booth, “Hey, Ann. You feelin’ alright?” 

She feels a couple pairs of eyes move to follow her suddenly, and she nods dismissively, “Y-Yeah, I’m good. Just... a little nervous. I feel like it’s been so long...”

A conversation around the room begins to blossom from that and the time continues to churn away little by little about how it’s been over a month without a word from ‘the fearless leader’. Ann glances about and happens to catch Ryuji’s gaze for a moment, netting a deeper understand that went further beyond  _ I’m anxious to see my friend again after so long  _ and extended into  _ I’m anxious to see my  _ boyfriend  _ after nearly two months because now things are different and you know it. _

She watches him pull his gaze away and fiddle with his phone, and a few seconds later, her buzzes fitfully in her pocket. 

It’s Ryuji, despite sitting a mere meter’s distance from him, [hey, weren’t you the one telling me not to worry before??] 

She glances back up to meet his gaze again, a slight shrug toying on his shoulders. He’s referencing that night she came clean to him about her heart, her attraction and how, with her full confidence, it would all work out between the three of them. That was then and this was now. She quickly writes back, [I know, I know...]

_ Bzzt, bzzt!  _ [I haven’t stopping thinking about it. It’s what I’ve always wanted too, just too shy to even say a damn thing. Like you said, it’ll work out.]

Another text, a mere heart emoji and Ann has to nearly throw her phone down onto the table because she can already feel the heat rising to her face even the presence of the others. 

Ryuji’s satisfied smirk drops at the sudden sound of a twisting door handle, the distinct clicking of a lock.

Her world slowly shifts around and she feels that time’s slowed down. Everything and everyone else vanishes, even just for a split second. When she finally finds the hardened resolve of forged steel in her bones to stand, she turned and meets the figure in the doorway, a soft spotlight overhead illuminating his frame as if it were a heavenly light. The colors around her grow more vivid, despite the dulled, muted tones of his wardrobe; the scent of coffee grows more potent and his charcoal hair looks as if they’re passionate brushstrokes on a piece that could only complete with the renown and meaningful  _ Sayuri _ . 

“...Akira...” She breathes, and just as the world begins to shift back into focus, the sudden jostle of the booth table startles her as she watches Ryuji shoot like a rocket, vaulting over the table and immediately into Akira’s astonished embrace. A laughter erupts from behind them, including from Ann, but when the two pull away and begin to speak, Ann catches that intimate spark between them. Akira’s hands never leave Ryuji’s back, while the punk moves to grip the other’s shoulders with tight, white knuckles, as if afraid to lose him again. The two of them grin wider than she’s ever seen before and while it’s a common expression on Ryuji’s bright face, it’s almost uncharacteristic on Akira’s, his face usually hardlined with stoic thought and patience. 

Ann’s the last to move from her place at the booth and make her way over to him. Almost two months...  _ Goddamn _ . While he’s already making his way around, exchanging warm hugs and smiles with the others, he glances over to catch her approaching, and suddenly, his expression softens to the fluffiest cloud she’s ever walked on. She presses herself into him, remember just how  _ perfect  _ her body feels and shapes to his own, as he wraps his sturdy arms around her and whispers in her ear, “I’ve miss you, dear” just an pitch lower than earshot, an intimate exchange for just the two of them. She melts, having almost forgotten the smooth silk of his voice before she finally forces herself to move away, studying the slow, warm glow of his rose-tinted face and the sun’s beautiful glimmer in his eyes-- _ the same as when he looked at Ryuji. _

 

*-*-*-*

 

That night is certainly one to remember, between Morgana’s return and the grim reminder that Akira’s hometown beckons for him to return following his probation. Nevertheless, the crew indulges in food and treats which leads to them--mostly Yusuke--asking Akira what prison food is like for the umptheetn time before breaking out into other various inside jokes and merry laughter for the night. 

It’s peaceful in the air around them. Akira is free. Shido is no longer a threat, let alone the giant asswipe in the sky above them. There’s no responsibilities. No more missions. No more dangers. Just calm, fun and joyous peace as far as the night takes them all. 

Ann hasn’t felt this unchained and free in a  _ long  _ while. 

It feels like their celebration has just begun, but slowly and surely the hours tick by like seconds and the sun sinks deep past the Shibuya skyline, painting the sky with cotton candy hues before finally diving into a deep, rich, navy blue of night. One by one, the crew disperses, hitting the streets dotted with overhead lights or catching trains to whisk them away to home and a deep slumber. After Futaba and Sojiro pass the store keys over Akira for the night and Morgana pads his way upstairs to drift off to much needed sleep, the once lively space gives way to just himself, Ann and Ryuji. 

It’s late, but especially now that Ryuji’s aware of the situation at hand, Ann assumes that he finds no need to play interrogator and question why she’s still here. There’s a hint of hesitation toying with his expression, and Ann has a mere clue of just what it could be. 

Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day. While they never had made official plans, there’s no doubt that they’ll continue the celebration of his homecoming with a romantic outing, which is grand and all, but...

She’s about to open her mouth and speak, but Akira’s silvery voice beats her to it, “You’re still here, Ryuji? I hope you’re not missin’ your train.” 

The faux-blonde waves it off and awkwardly fiddles with his hands, explaining how he can always just catch the late train. There’s a beat of silence heavy between the three of them before he adds, “...You’ve missed some big stuff, man...” 

Akira, even after two separate incarcerations, a near lethal dose of drugs pumped into him, and having been beaten and battered throughout the  _ year  _ on their expeditions, still stick sharp as a tack, and realizing that Ryuji is, suddenly, not as straightforward as he usually is, sets him just a tad on edge. 

Ann interjects with a sigh.  _ Well, here goes.  _ “Akira, you know tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day, right?” Akira blinks, realizes, and shoots her a look as his eyes dart rather panicky back and forth towards her and Ryuji. She realizes her first mistake and laughs, “N-No, it’s okay! He knows!” That alone calms the former-delinquent down with a soft chuckle and a shake of his head. The topic derails for just a moment as Ryuji expresses the pride of his intelligence before the blonde picks up where she left off, “Anyway, I know we don’t have anything planned, but, uh... Tomorrow, if we go out...” She can feel Akira’s eyes expecting, waiting. The gaze isn’t harsh, nor is it with any malice or ill-will, it’s just his stare is naturally strong and forged of steel, bonding with you until someone has the strength to rip from it’s grasp. It’s weighs her down with the added pressure as she finds the words to carry on.  _ C’mon, you got this Takamaki! _ “If we--

“--I’d like to go out with you guys tomorrow.” Ryuji cuts in, knuckles bone white as his fists curled tightly on the table surface; his tall, toned frame now trembling just slightly as if he’s a skyscraper ready to collapse in the lightest gale. His breath his heavy and even Ann swears he can hear his heart about ready to burst from his chest in anxiety. 

She watches Akira blink from his seat beside her, making sense of what just happened and she has to hide the tiny smile that threatens to peek across her lips. She felt the exact same aftermath with Ryuji the other day with his initial confession to her; that same hesitation, brain scrambling to pick up the pieces and put everything back together as if it’s an elaborate expert’s puzzle when really the answer’s right there before you in black and white.

Unlike herself, however, Ryuji’s impatient. The hesitation most likely eats away at him until it reaches past the flesh and muscle of his body, striking his insides with a queasy wave of uncertainty. With a sudden force, he launches himself from his seat and grips the side of the table excruciatingly tight, “Y-Yeah, I said it, man. I wanna go out with the two of you--” He jabs a finger towards Ann and mentions how she already knows from the previous confession. She merely nods with a polite smile and ushers him to keep going. From the corner of her gaze on the passionate young punk, Akira seems transfixed on Ryuji as well.  _ Enamoured _ , even. 

“--A-And I know it’s prolly ‘effin weird, l-like, t-t-three people or whatever, b-but! But, uh, y’know, screw it! I’m in love with y’all! There!” Ryuji parks himself back into his seat and presses himself tight against the backrest, probably wishing that the plush leather would just swallow him whole and never let him see the light of day again. 

Akira blinks again and begins to speak softly, “R-Ryuji--”

“A-And, y’know what? I don’t care if you don’t want me to go with you guys or whatever--”

“Ryuji--” 

“M-Maybe you d-don’t want me around ever again, b-b-but, I... I just needed...”

“Ryuji, I--”

“--I just needed to get that off my chest. There.” 

Akira doesn’t hesitate. He moves with the swiftness of a shadow in the dead of night, rising up and taking the clenched fists into his own. Ann can see the tension visibly loosen in the other’s grasp. “First of all, Ryuji--” Akira’s voice is firm and solid, yet it dances with that tone of sincerity, “Don’t you ever think that for even a second I wouldn’t want you in my life, okay?” 

The blonde nods, his breathing growing ragged at the sudden outburst and he moves to bit his lip, fighting back tears. Akira continues, “Second, I value your honesty Ryuji. I’ve always thought that to be such strong, endearing trait of yours. Don’t doubt that for a second, either.” 

He nods again, and now even Ann is forcing back tears of her own. Ryuji isn’t an emotional guy, so to see him break down that wall he’s spent  _ years  _ forging to lock himself behind crumble at the slight of Akira’s earnest sincerity is a rare and beautiful moment. 

The former Trickster lets his thin hands dance over Ryuji’s trembling fists, the soft touch so warming and assuring. “Lastly, Ryuij I... I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me this past year. You were the first person to stick by me. You were the first person who didn’t give a damn about what people said about me. You didn’t listen to anything but your own in intuition. And... And time passed, the amount of times you’ve save me... saved  _ all of us _ , it’s just... I owe you so much, Ryuji. I’d be delighted if you joined us.” A pause. “I... I love you too.” 

The reveal is so much more casual when it comes from his lips, but it’s all the same. It’s just as passionate, just as caring and just as heartfelt. Ryuji’s too busy muffling his strangled sobs to even realize, and it’s not until Akira lets go of the his hands and rises from his seat, moving over and leaning down to match the other’s height before swooping in, swift and quick like a  _ phantom,  _ to steal a kiss from the flustered, tear-stained face. 

It’s quick, a mere peak of the lips, but it speaks volumes about the emotions running rampant between the two of them, and Ann feels the emotion resonate in her own body--again, with the stomach and chest and now her swirling head. 

So when she moves out from the booth to join the two, arms entangled and embraced in a messy bunch, Ann swears she’s never felt more as home--between the racing heartbeats of the two boys, she’s sure that her own is a bit haywire as she nestles close between them; the space feeling even more fitting and more perfect for her slender frame. 

They’re a mess, a trio of misfits who weren’t exactly model rule abiders. Therefore, it’s only fitting for them to enter this strange, new stage in their lives. No rules. Just the tranquil peace and serenity being with these two bumbling idiots brings her, and she’s sure the same thought runs through both Akira and Ryuji’s head as they remain pressed in their embraced, nobody daring to make a notion to move...

...

...Except Ryuji, who peels back just slightly to sputter out in the middle of his sniffles, a crooked smirk hinging on his lips, “S-So, uh... w-where we goin’ tomorrow...?”

 

*-*-*-*

  
  
  



End file.
